Simple Solutions
by INMH
Summary: So much Crack you'll go away for life if it's caught in your possession. Season finale spoilers galore. Fourth wall? What fourth wall?


Simple Solutions

Rating: PG-13/T

Genre: Humor

Summary: Crack. Season finale spoilers galore. Fourth wall? What fourth wall?  
>Author's Note: This is meant to be humorous, not serious. There's a lot of season six commentary in here.<br>Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. It belongs to Eric Kripke.

()()()()

In the aftermath of the opening of purgatory and Castiel's ascension to God-Hood, Bobby, Dean and Sam all sat in Bobby's house and wondered what to do next.

"What _can_ we do?" Bobby grunted, uncapping a beer and downing half of it in one go. "He's God- Doesn't that make him omniscient? He probably already knows what we're doing."

"He's also not stupid. He knows we'll be planning something." Dean muttered.

"Is he really omniscient?" Sam's eyes were narrowed, and then he twitched slightly. Memories of hell already had him shaking, twitching and occasionally foaming at the mouth and screaming odd phrases when startled. Some of said phrases made more sense than others.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, how do we know exactly what Cas is? He might be as powerful as _the_ God, but that doesn't mean he has all of His powers." Dean stared at his brother in a deadpan for a moment, and then looked heavenwards.

"Hey Cas! If you can hear us and _have_ heard everything we've said over the past five minutes, give us a sign!"

And right on cue, a crack of thunder sounded outside.

Sam sniffed. "Could be a coincidence."  
>Right then, another, louder crack of thunder went off, accompanied by a flash of blinding light.<p>

Sam still looked skeptical. "It might be-"

Bobby slapped a hand over his mouth. "His next step'll probably involve electrocuting us, so _shut yer damn mouth_."

"Oh come on, it- _FUDGE MONKEYS FROM CAPRICA!_" Sam blurted out suddenly. He then promptly seized the nearest, heaviest object to him- his laptop- and started smacking himself in the head with it. "_MAKE THE PICTURES STOP!_"

"Come off it, Sam," Dean said lazily, as though totally unbothered by his brother's pain. "We both know your hell-problem is nowhere near as important as Cas' crazy-God shtick. That's why you got, like, no lines in the last fifteen minutes of the finale."

"And a fuck-you-very-much for getting my soul back for me."

"You were _psycho_ without it."

"If you hadn't made it clear that you were gonna _shove_ my soul down my _throat_ whether I wanted it or not, I would have never tried to kill Bobby, jerk."

"Bitch."

"Shut _up_, idjits!" Bobby snapped. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we've still got a psycho-angel turned psycho-god on our hands, and you two bitchin' at each other isn't going to stop him!"

"How about Balthazar?" Sam said. "He was willing to help before, why not now?"

"Because he's dead, bitch."

"Jerk."

"Satan's butt-boy."

"_NO LUCIFER, I **DON'T** WANT TO PLAY SCRABBLE TONIGHT! IT ALWAYS ENDS WITH YOU AND MICHAEL BITCH-SLAPPING EACH OTHER **AND THEN ME!**_" Sam pitched himself off the chair and slammed headfirst into a table-leg. It didn't knock him out, but it did hurt.

"How about Miss Moneypenny?" Dean suggested flatly, not entirely enthusiastic about teaming up with the angel that had told him to "learn his place" (Dean Winchester NEEDS NO PLACE).

"She's dead too, dumbass."  
>"What? Since when?"<p>

"Since you and Sam were in 1861. She died _after_ you left, but _before_ you nearly blew the whole dang operation to hell because you wanted an authentic high-noon shoot-out with the _phoenix_." Dean slammed his hand down on the table.

"_How many opportunities would there be for that?_"

"_About_ the same number of opportunities we had to get _phoenix ashes!_"

"Hey, maybe _Lisa_ can help," Sam said snappily as he picked himself up, a little bitter over his brother triggering another hell-memory. "Oh wait! She can't! Because Castiel's last act as your friend was to _wipe her memories._"

And true to his promise, Dean punched Sam hard in the nose, and down the taller brother went.

"How old _are_ you two idjits?" Bobby snarled.

"Twenty-eight and Thirty-two." Sam said. Dean blinked.

"Twenty-_nine_ and Thirty-_three_."

"What?"

"It's 2012."

"Just barely!"  
>"What the hell are you talking about?"<p>

"When we went to the old west, I told Samuel Colt that I was from 2011."

"But when you woke up after getting your soul back, _I_ told you it had been roundabout two years since you'd hurled yourself into the hole. That was in 2010, which would make this late 2012."

"_Late_ 2012?"

"It's been, like, months since you got your soul back: Two years from spring of 2010 would make it spring of 2012, and then likely four to six months later would put us in fall!"

"Maybe Balthazar sinking the Titanic did some screwy shit to the timeline." Bobby muttered. In the five minutes since he'd opened the first one, he was already halfway through his second beer. "They did switch the order of events."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you were supposed to go to the West _before_ Balthazar was supposed to sink the Titanic."

"Well why the hell did they switch it around?"

"Just because, I guess."

"Maybe. Hey!" Sam said suddenly, waving his hands excitedly. "What about Fate? She can help us, can't she?"

"Dude- She hates us. She tried to blow us up with gas stoves and a lighter, and then tried to crush us with heavy, falling objects." Dean rolled his eyes.

"But maybe she doesn't want Cas to be God. Maybe she wants to help."

"And maybe she wants to charbroil us again. _Or_, more likely, maybe Cas is still pissed at her for making him put things right again and he smote her in a fit of Godly wrath." Sam's shoulders sunk.

"Yeah. Maybe." He paused. "Kali."

"What?"

"Kali. You know- Gabriel's ex, the Hindu goddess from the Elysian Fields Motel?"

"What about her?"

"She didn't hate us."

"No, she just stabbed Gabriel through the gut, tried to drop a chandelier on us, offered to break your ribs and _also_ nearly set us on fire in a fit of rage."

"You're just pissed because she insulted the Impala."

"Damn straight I'm pissed that she insulted the Impala!"

"If she got her ass kicked by Lucifer, she'll get her ass kicked by Cas too." Bobby intervened. "And then Gabriel will rise from the dead and say 'Dammit you assholes, I died saving her and you just got her _killed?_'."

Sam and Dean seemed to give that some honest thought for a moment, and Bobby shook his head. "Gabriel's not coming back, morons! How often do people come back to life around here anyway?"

"Uh..."

"I've come back two times, Sam three times, Adam once, _you_ once, Cas twice, Balthazar once-"

"He wasn't actually dead. He faked it."

"Oh."

"And then, like, during the apocalypse when a whole boatload of people came back, including your-er-er-er… Ah…" Sam saw the mix of desolation and growing anger on Bobby's face. "_OH GOD THE TURNIPS! THE TURNIPS AND THE GIRAFFES ARE COMING FOR ME!_" Sam threw himself to the floor and began to flop around, but Dean saw him peek up at Bobby every now and then to see if he was still glaring at him.

"Anyone else?"

"We could ask Eve for help." Bobby stared at Dean for a moment. Usually Dean wasn't the one to make the blatantly stupid observations.

"Okay, you were the one that _killed_ her. So you should _know_ she's dead."

"Oh right. I think I just forgot because it ended up being s'damn _easy_ in the end. I mean, really: I was expecting a bigger showdown than what we got."

Sam climbed back onto his chair. "How'd you know she was going to take the 'bite me' bit so seriously though?"

"I didn't. It was a lucky shot. She seemed like she would."

"But you only spoke to her for, like, ten minutes. And you would have had to drink the ashes before then or you wouldn't have had the chance to."

"Do you have to _nitpick?_ Why can't you just enjoy what you got from the episode and not slam every little thing you didn't like? I know they were mean, but the jokes I made about Cas were pure gold! 'Baby in a trench coat'? 'Smitey-Mc-Smiterson'? 'Cas, get out of my ass'?"

"Yeah, and that's probably part of the reason he's so _pissed_ at you right now."

Bobby pinched the bridge of his nose and cursed John for teaching these kids everything about fighting and nothing about common sense or _focusing_.

"Here's an idea," He said loudly, cutting off the opportunity for more argument. "Why don't we, _seriously_, go find _somebody_ who might know how to gank our new God?"

"Like who?"

"Crowley, probably, as would be our damn luck. You know that since he got out alive he's probably gonna end up our ally again."

"Bastard."

"But a smart bastard who likes to _live_, and who has even more reason to be worried about Castiel than we do."

"Not necessarily. We still won't know until September whether or not we end up bowing to Cas or telling him to go screw."

"All the same, whether we do or don't, we should probably have some way to kill him on hand just in case." Dean looked oddly uncomfortable with this. "What?"

"I don't… Want to _kill_ Cas. I mean, he really is our friend, and he helped us so much." Sam snorted.

"You just don't want to kill him because you're secretly in love with him and want the two of you to have at least one round of hot sex before one of you dies."

"_Like you and your butt-buddy, Satan?_"

"**_NOT THE BLOW-UP DOLL! PLEASE! IT'S CREEPY AND IT REMINDS ME OF ZACHARIAH AND DEAR GOD, THAT'S WORSE THAN ANYTHING YOU COULD DO TO ME!_**" Sam shrieked. He'd offered up a few weird ones before, but this one kind of hit a new level of disturbing.

"You _do_ have a certain chemistry with him." Bobby noted. Dean shrugged.

"True."

"So _are_ you?"

"Sure."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I thought it was already established that I'll screw anything that moves."

"I mean _love,_ you idiot. A long-term, loving relationship in which you have sex that you _don't_ have to pay for."

"I had that with Lisa."

"But would you with Cas?"

"Yeah, sure. If he wasn't all psycho-god, I'd probably get with him. But why would I have done that before when I was in love with Lisa?"

Bobby thought for a moment. "It would have made the fans happy."

"Oh, right." Dean rolled his eyes and snagged a beer. "Because the only way I can make them happy is if I'm gay. If I'm with a woman that I plan to stay with, everyone _hates_ her and wants her dead, and she gets killed off."

"That does seem to happen a lot, doesn't it? What's the count now?"  
>Sam sat up again, and this time decided to stay on the floor so that, if and when he fell again, it would not be from any height. "Well, of my girlfriendspotential love interests: Jess, Madison, Lilith, Pamela, Ava, Ruby, Bela-"

"Bela?"

"I had a dream during that 'Dream a Little Dream of Me' stretch that implied that I was attracted to her. Then for you, Dean, it would be Bela, Jo, Pamela, Anna, Layla-"

"Layla?"

"The chick from 'Faith'? The one that's probably dead because we killed the faith healer that could have cured her terminal illness?" Dean cleared his throat and winced.

"Right. I remember."

"Bobby, you've got… Karen… Ellen and now Ellie. Cas' got knocked off too: Anna and him looked like they had _something_, and then the way they called special attention to the fact that they were introducing Rachel made it look like she was going to _become_ a character of special importance and then actually maybe become a love interest for Cas got knocked off twenty minutes after they introduced her."

"_God_ this show hates women. How misogynistic."

"_God_ this show likes bromance and wants there to be _bro's_ without _ho's._" Dean stared at his little brother with something akin to disgust.

"Please never utter a sentence like that again."

"Yeah, sorry."

For a long, long moment there was silence.

Dean looked left, then right.

"Did we cover everything?"

Sam thought for a moment. "The discrepancies in the timeline, the argument as to how you could just as easily be heterosexual or homosexual, the eerie fact that all of the women on the show seem to die off, our lack of allies and how fucked we probably are as a result, nitpicking every little thing people didn't like about the shows, the vagueness of the impact hell had on my psyche, Cas' powers, your general faults… I think we got just about everything."

"Except?"

Sam grinned. "_Except_ the two most likely ways that the writers of the show will be able to have us save Cas and everyone who died as a result of his and Crowley's deal with as little bad water under the bridge as possible. As well as, of course, the obvious flaws or possibilities of the plan."

Bobby and Dean stared at him. "And that would be?"

"_M-M-MUFFINS! MUFFINS IN THE PANTRY! MUFFINS WITH THE DUCK-BILLED PLATYPUS AND THE MERRY MARCHING BAND OF PENGUINS!_" Sam shrieked suddenly, rocking back and forth on the floor. His brother and father-figure rolled their eyes and waited impatiently for the fit to end.

"You done?" Bobby grunted when Sam began to wipe the foam away from his mouth and the irises of his eyes were visible again.

"Uh, yeah."

"Then _tell_ us."

Sam cleared his throat. "Well, one: Chuck is God."

"That hasn't been proven yet."

"He was wearing white in the season five finale and disappeared in a puff of smoke. For all intent and purpose, _he is God_. If you want to deny it, go right ahead. My point is, _God_ has been established as MIA, not dead. He's _probably_ going to get a little testy that Cas has run away with a lot of power, and He might decide to intervene."

"_Might?_"

"Depends on how powerful Cas is. Or He may just continue to screw us and do nothing."

"True enough."

"The second option, which _may_ or may not be engineered by God even if we don't see Him, is that we are somehow sent back in time and manage to stop Cas from either opening purgatory or making the deal with Crowley in the first place. It'll probably big and sappy and emotional and tear-jerking, and I'm sure there'll be plenty of fan videos on YouTube once it's over depicting our poignant struggle."

Bobby and Dean both shuddered a little.

"Ugh."

"Yeah. But once that's over, we'd have Cas back and everything would be cool."

"Until, of course, Raphael wins and blows us up. Hey, did we ever cover the question as to why Cas didn't just waste Raphael with the heavenly weapons? He said he _could_ do it, but he didn't at the time, so what changed?"

Sam shook his head, wincing. Bobby stood up. "Screw it, Dean. Let's go find Crowley, have him pop us back in time, and we'll stop Cas before he can make that deal."

"Or should we go back to when he opened purgatory?"

"What about purgatory?"

Bobby, Dean and Sam all jumped. Castiel had appeared out of nowhere. He was licking a lollipop. It was one of the large, multi-colored swirly ones. He stared at them with the eyes of a deranged serial killer.

"You… Don't know what we're talking about?"

"No."

"I thought you were omniscient."

"Nope." Castiel licked the lollipop.

"HA! I TOLD YOU IT WAS A COINCIDENCE!" Sam called to Dean. His older brother glared at him.

"Satan's butt-buddy."

"_NIPPLE CLAMPS!_" All three watched as Sam went down again. Unfortunately, he had stood up before, and this time fell a long ways. When he started foaming at the mouth again they all looked away.

"So… Uh… Did you want something?" Bobby asked Castiel weakly. Castiel tilted his head to the side, eyes wide and blue. The hand holding the lollipop did not even twitch.

"I merely wanted to check in and make sure you weren't plotting against me. Were you?" He looked at both Dean and Bobby.

Unfortunately, Dean and Bobby were some distance apart, and Castiel's eyes rolled in opposite directions in a way that was most certainly not natural. That, combined with the tone of his voice, the look _in_ his eyes and, of course, that freakin' lollipop, actually made Dean wet himself a little. Bobby may have whimpered.

"N-N-No."

Castiel's eyes immediately resumed their natural positions.

"That's good."  
>And just like that, he was gone.<p>

Dean let out a shuddery breath. "We need to go. Like, now."

"No kidding."

"But how far back should we go? To when he made the deal with Crowley or when he opened purgatory?" Sam asked.

"If we go back too far, he might not realize how serious it's going to get." Dean said.

"If we don't go back far enough, we might not be able to convince him." Sam countered.

**_BLAM_****. **

Both Sam and Dean fell silent. Bobby was pointing a rifle at the ceiling.

"Shut up. And summon Crowley."

()()()()

"… And so if you _don't_ stop now, you're going to become a crazy, evil monster high on soul-juice that wants everyone to bow to you, and you're so _lonely_ and you kill all your _friends_ and you make everyone so _sad_."

Dean was crying as he stood before Castiel and tried to convince him to abandon his deal with Crowley and his search for purgatory.

The scene really was that touching.

And also, Sam had poked him in the eye. For insurance purposes.

"Oh please! Like the little boy-scout here would ever go dark side." Then-Crowley snorted. They were all standing in Lisa Braeden's yard as Then-Dean was raking leaves. Funny: Only angels and demons had the ability to hide themselves from human view, but it seemed that Then-Dean couldn't see Sam, Dean or Bobby.

Of course, maybe he did and was simply pretending to be having an aneurism rather than accepting that his future self, brother and father-figure were bargaining with an invisible Cas and Crowley.

But Castiel's eyes were watery too, and he nodded sadly at Dean.

"I simply cannot sink to such a length for victory. It would be hollow and evil." He turned to Crowley and said darkly, "No deal."

Crowley stared at him. Then at Bobby and the Winchesters. "You _just_ screwed me out of a deal, you bastards."

But they weren't listening. Sam clapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Good to see you normal again, man. You really had us scared."

"Yeah, the future you was creepy." Dean shivered.

"I am sorry. You know you are my family, and I would never set out on any endeavor with the intention of hurting you."

"We know, Cas. But you really should have looked into other methods of help for this war. I mean, the pagan gods and goddesses aren't so nuts about angels, but they might be willing to help out if they know you're trying to stop the apocalypse. And here's a hint: _Hide_ those heavenly weapons. Like, now. You'll thank us later." Bobby sighed.

"Balthazar won't." Sam mumbled. Dean kicked him.

"Hey, does anyone else feel like dinner?" Crowley interjected mildly. "Because I do so enjoy being wined and dined _after I get **FUCKED**_!" Four light bulbs in the nearby house sparked wildly and exploded, and Crowley disappeared.

"Drama queen."

"Funny, Crowley never really struck me as bottom-bitch."

"It usually goes either way." Sam, Dean and Castiel all stared at Bobby. He glared at them. "You _saw_ the damn photo he took. Damn fanfiction writers have done more with _less than that_."

()()()()

I MOCK BECAUSE I LOVE.

Really, the only thing I poked fun at in here that actually, seriously irritated me in real life was the timeline, and that's just because I'm a nitpick when it comes to knowing when everything's happening. I'd tell you my problem with it, but I think Sam and Dean covered it nicely. :D

Sad thing is, I have a feeling that I'm going to get at least _one_ person who reads this and is pissed off about something I wrote. People, I'm just poking fun at everything that seems to raise a fuss in Supernatural fandom, season six and otherwise. I was just trying to be funny.


End file.
